I Just Forgot My Phone
by macisgate
Summary: Sure it's probably in her purse if she bothered to look there, but she needs some reason to sit alone in her office in the dark.


I Just Forgot My Phone

Season: 2

Summary: Sure it's probably in her purse if she bothered to look there, but she needs some reason to sit alone in her office in the dark.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist".

This little number has been sitting on my computer for a few years, and I really hate leaving things unposted. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Best wishes and lots of love,

Christine

000

It's late when she walks through the dark office. Her shoes echo loudly in the empty space. She forgot her phone. Sure it's probably in her purse if she bothered to look there, but she needs some reason to sit alone in her office in the dark. She has to have an answer in case someone happens upon her. Like a fellow agent. Or the janitor. Or Jane.

She has to have a good excuse because the actual reason isn't one she wants to share. How is she really supposed to explain that tonight she was careless? That she crossed a line, and she's scared and ashamed, and she just wants to sit in her office chair, shuffle some papers, and feel some semblance of control and morality again.

Maybe sitting here for just a little while will take away the haunted look in her eyes, will clear away the smell of tequila, and wipe away the disappointment in Sam Bosco's eyes when she told him to stop kissing her.

Why, after all these years, did she still have feelings for him? She'd done the right thing, transferred away from his team, away from his city. But here they were again. Fate was a funny thing. Or at least it liked to have fun at her expense.

"Hey, Lisbon."

She shudders as her head jerks up. Her wide, sad eyes fuse with his, and she wishes she could disappear. Why does he have to be here now?

He smiles slightly, pleased with himself for surprising her. His smile fades though, as his eyes analyze her of their own free will. "Little late for office work, don't you think?"

She knows the proper thing to do would be to respond, to fake her way through and say something. Anything.

"Oh, um..." She closes her eyes, trying to remember. "My phone. I forgot my cell phone. I think."

His eyes squint. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she reassures him. "I just... forgot my phone."

He moves further into the room and collapses onto her couch with an over-the-top flop and a loud sigh of relief. "Long day." It's only now that he's sitting beside her that she realizes she isn't sitting in her office chair like she'd planned. She's sitting on her couch, leaning forward with her arms wrapped around her middle.

She nods even though she didn't actually hear what he said.

"Nice shoes," he compliments her stilettos. "Did you drive here?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant, but she knows better. He can smell the alcohol. He wants to know if she drove drunk.

"I walked." In the middle of the night. It occurs to her now that she could have taken a cab. Her feet hurt like hell.

Most definitely he knows who she was with and why. Stupid dress, all black and shiny and strapless.

He doesn't judge her. Just says, "Nice night for a stroll."

They sit in silence for a moment longer, until she can't hold it back anymore, and she draws in a loud, shaky breath, tears forming in her eyes.

His large, warm hand on her back is her undoing, and she lets a few tears fall.

"I'm sorry, Jane," she whispers.

He pulls her against him gently, stroking her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"That's not true."

"Lisbon, I mean it," he assures her. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

She shakes her head. "He's married. I knew his wife was away when he invited me over for dinner. I knew why he asked me over, and I went anyway. Dressed like this. I knew exactly what I was getting into. I was so stupid."

"Don't say that," he admonishes her. "You stopped it, didn't you? Before...?"

"Yeah."

He shrugs. "That counts for something."

"I didn't stop him very quickly," she admits, heat flushing her skin.

"But you stopped him nonetheless." He stands up and holds a hand out to her. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

She rises with a sigh. "You don't have to be so nice."

He smiles gently. "With you, my dear, I can't seem to help myself."

When they arrive at her house, she finally takes off her shoes and sinks her feet into the soft carpet. Jane walks past her and into her kitchen. She stands still where she is, listening to the familiar sounds of tea being prepared. She's still standing there when he walks out with two steaming cups and sets them on her coffee table.

He comes over to her then, studying her for a moment before deciding what she needs. Without asking, he pulls her into a long, warm hug, not pulling away until she does.

Lisbon wipes at her eyes again. "Damn tequila," she tries to laugh.

He takes her hand and draws her to the couch where they sit together in comfortable silence, drinking their tea. Finally, her eyes heavy, Lisbon lays down, pulling her feet up. Jane pulls a throw blanket over her shoulders as her eyes drift shut.

"Sleep well, my dear," he whispers.

000

The End

000


End file.
